


Talk about where we're going

by napstabl00k



Category: Avengers: Endgame - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Both of them need a hug, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn Without Significant Plot, steve is hungry for validation, tony is hungry for dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 21:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20032807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napstabl00k/pseuds/napstabl00k
Summary: “We're gonna get them back, Steve.”The soldier swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. He remembered those words, from someone else's mouth five years ago.“Yeah,” Steve croaked, but Tony was still speaking.“We're gonna get them back, and we… you and me, we need to… I need to deal with this. Once and for all.”“Tony-”“No, no, you listen, Rogers. I… if something happens once we get the Stones I need to, I don't know, have closure. And I'm thinking you do too,” Tony said, finally making eye contact again and shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, near Steve, and Steve's stomach did a flip, despite the seriousness of it all. “Can we just… talk?”Steve and Tony's trip to the 1970s goes a bit longer than they'd planned. A road trip across America gives them the opportunity to bury the hatchet, though Steve needs to get past his insecurities first.





	Talk about where we're going

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my Porn Which Has A Bit Too Much Plot To Be Considered A Porn Without Plot  
this fic... hhhh. it was meant to be 5000 words. these two talk WAY too much and it pissed me off to no end while writing it
> 
> enjoy!!
> 
> [edited 5/19/20 to fix a minor plot hole]

Steve Rogers didn’t know what he had expected from his and Tony’s little jaunt in the 70’s, but a road trip certainly wasn’t it.

So it turned out Tony was wrong, and Dr. Hank Pym, the original Ant-Man, apparently - Steve hadn't known that little tidbit - didn’t keep his Pym Particles in the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound at Camp Lehigh. Steve had managed to do a little snooping while in Pym’s lab, though, and discovered the likely location of the particle lab; one minor problem - it was in California.

“San Francisco,” Steve had told Tony. “I don’t suppose you had a private plane in 1970?”

“Considering I’m still a resident in my mom’s body, no,” Tony replied with his trademark grimace. “And all our money would be considered highly suspect at best." He shook his head. “Gah, I knew I should have built boosters into the quantum suits.”

"You could fly over?"

Tony raised a brow as his eyes caught on something in the distance, and he said, "On second thought." Steve followed his stare to a large poster on the wall that stated, _Report The Reds!_ "Maybe we shouldn't start World War Three."

Steve huffed a laugh. "We’re gonna need something slower.” 

So there they were, in a borrowed (“It’s stolen, Rogers, there’s no way we’re gonna get it back to Jersey.”) car, eight long hours into the trip, with far too many to go. Steve wasn’t sure how he and Tony had been able to get on for this long; they may have struck a peace to get the Stones, but they hadn’t spent this much time together alone since… since.

Since Bucky, his mind said, but he knew it’d been much longer than that. 

Steve glanced at Tony, who was sleeping soundly in the passenger seat of the nondescript ’65 Pontiac. Their relationship had always been somewhat rocky at best, and he was glad they had been able to put aside their past to work together. Five years later, Steve still felt the absolute devastation from that one word. Liar. He’d thought he had lost everything in the Snap, but that word… it confirmed that Steve had truly screwed everything up.

Steve Rogers had been called many horrible things in his life, and “liar” from Tony Stark’s mouth still hurt the most.

Thus far, Steve was pretty sure the only reason they hadn’t gotten into an argument during this trip was because Tony was able to focus all of his ire at their situation on the music piping through their car radio. Tony was solidly an 80’s man, a fact Steve had learned intimately well during their… Steve hesitated to call it a relationship, even privately. It was more like a series of moments, half of which involved some sex act. Steve blushed to think of his almost insatiable behavior during the thick of his and Tony’s… moments. After their first kiss (Steve’s first since 1945 - _Natasha, I hope you're okay,_ Steve thought with a pang), it had felt like Steve couldn’t get enough of Tony, and the other man responded in kind.

Said man was stirring in his seat. “H’w long was I out?” Tony sleep-slurred as he blinked at Steve adorably. Steve immediately quashed that thought down - he didn’t want to make Tony uncomfortable with this whole excursion, and Tony was married anyway, to someone far better than Steve ever was.

“About an hour and a half,” Steve replied evenly. “Guess you were tired.”

“Yeah, getting smacked down by the Hulk can do that to a guy,” Tony grumbled. “Where are we?”

“Just nearing Columbus. Your driving habits got us ahead of schedule.” Steve flashed a small grin at Tony. “Do you think we should stop for the night?” Steve may have had super-soldier stamina, but they both needed rest. It had been a long day.

Tony gave him a questioning look. “This, coming from the guy who used to keep me up all night.” Steve spluttered indignantly and Tony smirked. “Yeah, I could use a real bed. It better not be made of water, though, hate those things. Never been on one, I just hate them on principle.” Steve rolled his eyes but said nothing, instead willing the blush on his cheeks to go down. This was already not good.

They found a motel in a sleepy, semi-suburban area just outside of Columbus. The first floor was not very well-lit, which made for an easy score. Tony scanned for an empty room and picked the lock, and they were in.

“Oh, god,” Tony groaned as soon as his body hit one of the queen-sized mattresses. “This bed has got to be one of the worst I’ve ever been on, but damn if it isn’t fucking incredible right now.” He sat up. “Mark my words, when I get back to the future, I’m finding this mattress and burning it for making me say such nice things about it.”

Steve chuckled. “Really? Just for that?” He shook his head and set his shield down on the table. “I dunno. I bet this bed will be in my top ten nicest.”

“Ugh,” Tony fake-wretched, “don’t say things like that, I’ll lose my lunch.” He scratched his beard. “The small amount that we had, anyway. Damn, I could really go for a pizza right now. Think I could threaten a pizza guy into handing one over without paying?”

“Tony.”

“Kidding, I'm kidding, Rogers, don't get your virtuous manhood in a twist.” Tony eyed the phone. “Seriously though, I'm starving. Don't you have any ancient 1940's money we could use?”

“Sorry, didn't have my wallet when I went into the ice.” Steve thought for a moment. “Gimme a second.” He went back to the car and searched for a few minutes, praying for a miracle. _Seems God is on my side this time,_ he thought, as he fished out a ten dollar bill from between the seats.

“Got our dinner fund.” Steve handed over the bill. “Don't spend it all in one place,” he told Tony, only half-joking. It wasn't likely they were going to come across any more money anytime soon.

“You know me, big spender.” Tony picked up the phone book and located a place. “Probably shouldn’t actually order over the phone, these landlines are _not_ trustworthy. Be back soon.” He flashed Steve a winning smile, and the super-soldier felt warm to the tip of his toes. This was absolutely going to be a long few days.

An hour later, Steve and Tony were sprawled on their respective beds, surrounded by empty pizza boxes. 

“Geez, ten bucks gets you a lot in 1970. Imagine if I came back here with my full net worth,” Tony sighed, patting his stomach contentedly. “I’d be a… well, probably still a billionaire.”

Steve snorted. “Back in my day, a sawbuck would get you way more. Inflation hit hard post-WWII.”

“Back in my d… a _sawbuck?_ Calm down, old man, you’re gonna pull a muscle,” Tony said with an eyeroll. “You sound like my grandpa. But with a way better voice, granddad absolutely ruined himself on cigars.”

Steve sat up straighter as he remembered the day’s events. He gave Tony a piercing look and said, “Speaking of family… you were talking to Howard earlier.”

Tony pointedly did not meet Steve’s gaze. It was still a sore subject between them, then. “Yeah, I, he, uh… caught me trespassing, totally bought that I was from MIT even though I’m pretty sure visitors aren’t supposed to be in the ‘Important Artifacts’ section of the lab. Man, S.H.I.E.L.D. security really always has been shit, hasn’t it? He,” Tony giggled, and it sounded a little hysterical, “He even bought that my name was also Howard. Literally gave me the cube. Guess he was distracted, with the… flowers and everything…”

“Flowers?” Steve knew Tony was deflecting the real question, the chance for a real discussion about Howard and everything he stood for between them. Sometimes, he knew, it was best to just let Tony ramble until he was ready to get to the point. “I saw he was carrying something. For Maria?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tony rubbed a hand over his face, “Maria is expecting, well, me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was still in my mom.”

“Oh,” Steve replied dumbly, because of course, Tony was born in 1970. How had he forgotten that? He could remember a time when information like that, about Tony, was second nature. It had been so long. “Wow. That’s…”

“Weird,” Tony said, the Tony Stark Grimace back on his face. “Don’t worry, I didn’t realize either. Guess we were both focused on… other things.” He quirked an eyebrow at Steve. “You saw her, right? I mean, I assume you did, ‘cause you’ve been thinking really loudly since we left.”

Steve sighed. He’d hoped Tony wouldn’t notice his ruminations on Peggy, because seeing her again was, frankly, a massive stab to the heart. Not only was he still in love with her, she reminded him of everything he’d ever lost; her, Bucky, his pre-serum life, his 1940’s life, the Avengers, Bucky again, Sam… Tony. 

“She was… she was _right there,_ Tony. I wish-” Steve stopped, because he wasn't sure what he wished. For Peggy back? His old life? Which life? He felt like there were so many different iterations of himself, so many versions of Steve Rogers and Captain America, and they were all so separate from each other. “She looked… she looked real good,” he said instead, because he couldn't lie, and that was the only truth he was sure about. 

Tony hummed, and then suggested, “Maybe after this is all over, you can finally get a life, Cap.”

“As long as I'm still ‘Cap,’ I think this is my life,” Steve replied, reluctant to say it, but he had to be truthful. Tony deserved to know what Steve had realized long ago; so long as the world still needed Captain America, he could never be Steve Rogers.

“Maybe you should pass on the mantle then. You're way past retirement age, no one would judge you,” Tony said evenly. “Hell, I'm considering it too. This should be my last jaunt as Iron Man, there are plenty of young proteges out there who could take over.” He paused, and then added, “As long as this works.”

“It will work,” Steve shot back with a touch too much aggression, and Tony held up his hands in mock surrender. Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and apologized, “Sorry. Been a long day.”

“You're tellin’ me. My brain still hurts.” They sat in silence for a moment, and Steve could feel Tony's sudden hesitation. Probably, he was thinking about their mission, and what was at stake. Maybe, he'd finally remembered that he, a married man, was sitting in a dirty motel room with his ex and a shit-ton of unresolved baggage. Steve was almost sure Tony was going to call it a night, when the engineer spoke again.

“We're gonna get them back, Steve.”

The soldier swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. He remembered those words, from someone else's mouth five years ago. He believed this would work, but hearing Tony's quiet resolve… it made him really feel it. Hope. It was in such short supply these days.

“Yeah,” Steve croaked, but Tony was still speaking.

“We're gonna get them back, and we… you and me, we need to… I need to deal with this. Once and for all.” Tony was looking away from him again, and Steve wished he wouldn't. He wanted to see Tony's beautiful brown eyes as much as he could, before they went back to ignoring each other. Or worse.

“Tony-”

“No, no, you listen, Rogers. I… if something happens once we get the Stones I need to, I don't know, have closure. And I'm thinking you do too,” Tony said, finally making eye contact again and shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, near Steve, and Steve's stomach did a flip, despite the seriousness of it all. “Can we just… talk?”

Steve nodded, and moved to match Tony’s position. “Please,” he said, and it was almost a whisper. “You go first. I'll listen.”

Tony let out a breath then, one that he'd seemed to have been holding for a while. “Okay. Uh… where to start. Well, I guess with the breakup. When we… stopped, I didn't really ever know why. I thought, well, it was something to do with me. After you took a swim in the Potomac, you… backed off, a lot. It… that did a number on me, Steve.” Tony swallowed, and had that look on his face when he was infodumping and he wanted to shut up but couldn't. “I l… liked you a lot. And it made me feel like I'd done something wrong, not having helped you with the whole HYDRA thing.

“But looking back I realize it was because of… _him._” Steve tried not to wince at the barely suppressed vitriol in Tony's voice. So many years later, some wounds were still healing. “At first I wondered if you were in love with him, and, well, maybe you are? Don't answer that yet, I need to… I need to finish.” Steve motioned Tony to continue. “Then the… Siberia thing happened. And you, well, almost killed me for him, and then I realized that you really left me because… you didn't want to hurt me.”

Steve blinked in shock. That was not the conclusion he was expecting. The feeling must have been apparent on his face, because Tony nodded tiredly and said, “Yeah, I know, I'm still full of surprises. But I had seven years to figure that out. At first I just hated you. It was easy, but it hurt. More than just me, it hurt my family. 

“Pep was the one who helped me figure it out, by the way,” Tony continued, a small smile lighting up his face, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. “She told me that if she were in your position she would never have wanted to dredge up my parents’ deaths like that, even for the truth, especially if she didn't have all the facts. And you didn't. So… I understand. I may never be able to fully forgive it. But I understand.”

Steve felt the tears, but staunchly refused to let them flow. Not when Tony was holding up so well, and Steve still needed to speak his piece. How did he respond to _that,_ though?

Tony looked down, clearing his throat. Okay, maybe he wasn't holding up as well as all that. After a moment, he gestured to Steve and said, “Okay, I think that's… that's what I needed to say, you can go now.”

“Wow,” was all Steve could reply, and he knew his voice was strained. He blinked back his tears. He had to speak his truth, for Tony. “Okay, uh. Well.”

“Gee Rogers, you're usually so eloquent, where's the speech?” Tony ribbed gently, poking Steve in the knee. “Take your time, I know that was a lot.”

Steve started to shake his head, then changed his mind and nodded. “It kinda was,” he laughed wetly, “but you deserve to know everything. First, I know you said you're not sure if you can forgive me, and that's okay, I don't expect you to. But I am sorry. For everything. I never wanted to cause you pain, and by not taking action, I caused the most pain.” Steve couldn't look at Tony, as hurtful as it was. 

“Second… you might be right. About me being in love with… Bucky.” To his credit, Tony didn't flinch at the name. “I guess I've always had something with him… back in the 40's, he knew I was a queer, and he always pulled me off the bullies anyway. Him and me… it was unspoken, even to ourselves, I think.” Steve could sense Tony's discomfort, but it had to be said. Not to rationalize anything, just to tell the truth. Steve had to tell the truth.

“After HYDRA, I thought I would end up hurting you if we stayed together. I thought we could both move on, that it wasn't ever that serious anyway, and I'd hoped Zola was wrong. And then after Siberia, I realized I'd become the one thing that would hurt you no matter what: a liar. To you, and to myself.” The tears were falling, now, and Steve couldn't stop them this time. “I promise you, I will never lie to you again. I can't.” 

_It’s my fault. I never deserved you. You were better, for the Avengers and the world._ He didn’t say these things. They weren’t the full truth, only projections of his own lack of self-worth, and they asked for too much pity. Tony shouldn’t need to validate him, especially after an apology.

Steve swallowed thickly around the words, but he knew they had to be said. The full truth. “I loved you. I still love you, so much. And I'm so happy you found someone to love you, and to love.”

Silence fell over them like an oppressive blanket, and Steve didn't dare raise his tearful gaze. “Goddammit,” Tony finally muttered. “Fuck. Damnit, Rogers.” Tony was curled in on himself, Steve could see his hands clasping and unclasping on his knees. Finally he exclaimed, “I’m gonna regret this. Or maybe I would regret it if I _didn’t_ say it, so I’m saying it. I - I love you, too. Present-tense.” He paused, and then added, “And I’m - I’m sorry, for my part in everything. It was never just your fault, I know that now.”

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Tony Stark loved him, present-tense - and he was apologizing? “You don’t - have to apologize,” Steve gasped out, swallowing a sob, “It was my fault, everything was my fault-”

“Ultron wasn’t,” Tony interrupted, almost matter-of-fact, but Steve could feel the pain in his stance. “Zemo wasn’t. HYDRA… _Bucky_… wasn’t.” Steve almost trembled under the weight of the words, Tony was wrong, it was his fault, if Bucky hadn’t fallen if Steve had found him if Steve had done his job to destroy HYDRA - 

\- if Erskine hadn’t chosen the wrong man -

“Steve. Hey. Steve.” Tony was knelt by Steve’s side, and Steve had no idea when Tony had moved, his head was spinning and his breath was coming in short pants. “Hey. You’re having a panic attack, listen to my voice. _Breathe._ Come on, that’s it, just breathe in, count with me, 1, 2, 3, 4…” Slowly, Tony lead him through the exercise, and Steve suddenly envisioned Bucky at his side, helping him through an asthma attack, _“Count to four with me, okay, Stevie? In, 2, 3, 4…”_

Steve’s breath finally slowed. “Thank you,” he choked, “Tony, I’m sor-”

Tony put his hand over Steve’s mouth. “If you apologize for having a panic attack, I’m going to actually scream. Maybe have my own panic attack, who knows.” Tony moved to sit next to Steve on the bed. He opened and closed his mouth, like he was trying to find the right words, and said, “We're both pretty fucked up, huh.”

Steve allowed himself a watery chuckle. “I think… that's just the hero gig.” Though he'd been fucked up for as long as he could remember.

“Ugh, come here,” Tony groaned, holding out his arms, “you look like your dog just died. I didn't come all the way back to the 70's for the same old, shitty sadness.” Steve looked at him with disbelief, and Tony waved his hands. “Come on, Rogers, my muscles are still beautiful but my arms aren't as strong as they used to be. Get over here.”

Steve relented, and allowed Tony to wrap him in his (still rather strong) arms and guide him to lay on the bed, cuddled side by side. Steve gripped onto Tony as hard as he dared, and, after a moment of hesitation, burrowed his face into Tony's hair. It was still as soft as he remembered.

“I missed you,” Steve whispered, and if Tony disliked that Steve was getting tears in his hair, he didn’t say anything. “I missed this.” So maybe Steve was a little touch-starved. It had been so long since he’d been held.

Tony sniffed. “Yeah, me too,” he finally said, and his voice was a bit wet. “This is nice. Can we do this forever? I forgot how much I cherish this pillowy chest of yours.”

Steve gave a weak chuckle, absentmindedly stroking his hands up and down Tony’s back. “I’m surprised we got to this point without a fight. You remember how many times our arguments would end like this?”

“God, yeah. We’re such hotheads.” Tony pulled away slightly to look Steve in the eye, and once again, Steve was struck absolutely speechless. How had he ever let go of someone this precious? “You know, after… when I got back to Earth, and that whole argument, I… vowed to stop fighting.” Tony pressed back into Steve's chest, and looked almost forlorn. It didn’t suit him; Steve had never seen his confidence fall away so abruptly. “I had a family to think about. Have a family. Gah, being in the past is so confusing. So I vowed to stop. And I did, I stopped fighting physically. But I was still… fighting myself.” He spoke slowly. “And I was still… fighting you. Fighting our history. It - it caused some problems. I tried to work through them. I thought I did.”

Tony sniffed again, hard, and continued more quickly, “And then you showed up on my doorstep, talking about a _time heist,_ and I was so angry, all over again. Like the last five years and my vow were nothing. That’s when I realized what I told you, resentment is corrosive. It was eroding me, eroding the people I care about. Including you.”

Steve didn’t reply. How could he? It had never been said during their relationship, but Tony cared for him, loved him. And Steve… “How can you still love me? I hurt you,” Steve said, voice low. He gestured helplessly around the room. “I pulled you into this. Even now, I'm destroying your life.”

Tony pulled back fully and gave Steve a withering glare. “Excuse you, Rogers,” he exclaimed, “I can destroy my life all by myself, thank you very much. You don't have to do shit, and don't try to push me away now, not after all this. You,” Tony jabbed a finger in Steve's face, “said you love me, and I love you, so you don't _get_ to pull any bullshit. Not tonight. If you really do love me-”

“I do,” Steve cut in, with as much conviction as he could muster. “I love you so much that I can't _breathe_ sometimes.”

Just as suddenly as the anger came, it receded like a wave, and Tony slumped back into Steve's chest. “Fuck, that's a lot.” They cuddled in silence for a few minutes, Steve kneading Tony's shoulders lightly while Tony stroked Steve's hair. It was almost like the last seven years had never happened, and they were back in Stark Tower, stealing a precious moment in Tony's room. Tony would be absolutely horrified at the comparison, and the thought caused Steve to chuckle.

“What?” Tony asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, just thinking about old times,” Steve replied warmly. “All the hours we spent just like this, in your bed.” His face flushed slightly as he realized the implication of the statement. “Sorry, that - I overstepped.” He made to draw away, sure he'd ruined the moment, but Tony's arms locked him in place.

“And where do you think you're going?” Tony's voice took on an almost dangerous tone, and Steve felt his arousal jump involuntarily; that tone had brought him to his knees more than once. “I didn't tell you to leave. In fact, I'm asking you to stay.” Warm brown eyes met Steve's gaze imploringly, and he was sure his face had to be bright red by then. Their faces were mere inches away from each other, and if he just leaned forward -

No, what was he thinking? Tony was _married,_ in a very good relationship, and there was no chance in hell that Steve would ever ruin that. He'd ruined enough of Tony's life. Even though Tony had said he loved Steve “present-tense” - what did it all mean? Steve laid frozen, paralyzed with doubts, and he almost didn't register Tony's almost record-breaking eyeroll.

“Rogers, shut your brain up and please kiss me already,” Tony grumbled, and pressed his lips onto Steve's.

Instantly, Steve's mind went blank, and he automatically kissed back with a fervor he hadn't felt in years. He grasped Tony's face with both hands, sucking hard at Tony's bottom lip. Steve could kiss Tony like this for hours, revel in the scratch of Tony's beard against his face, Tony's nails on his back, Tony's-

“Wait!” Steve pushed away, backing off to the other side of the bed. “Tony, what the - you're married, what the hell are you doing?” Steve was ruining everything, he was going to break up Tony’s perfect relationship and it would be his fault, again. 

“Steve-”

“I can’t be here,” Steve panicked, making to get up and leave, “I’ll sleep in the car-”

“Steve, wait,” Tony exclaimed as he grabbed Steve’s hand, “wait, just _listen._” He gripped hard, dragging across the bed as Steve stood. “I should - have told you,” Tony strained slightly, “before I kissed you, it’s okay. Pepper and I worked it out.”

“What,” Steve said, “are you talking about?”

“Sit.” Tony tugged on Steve’s hand insistently. “Sit _down,_ Rogers.” Slowly, Steve obliged, perching himself on the edge of the bed, as far from Tony as he possibly could. “Before I went to the compound we had a talk. I told her I was gonna try and work it out between us, and we decided that whatever I needed to do, I could do it.”

“What? Tony, that's…” Steve didn't even know what to think. He got a rush of deja vu then, as he remembered a time when this kind of thing wasn't so unusual; men finding wives and saying their goodbyes to each other, to the life of hiding in the shadows, making secret love in the back rooms of seedy houses. Steve had known several men who had done just that, and he'd never thought he would join them.

“I know. It's weird, right? But honestly it makes sense, I think I - I _need_ this, Steve. I need _you,_ I've needed you for so long and I,” Tony stuttered, “I need this closure. Is that okay? Are we okay?”

Steve studied Tony for a long moment. “It's not as weird as you think,” he finally sighed. “I dunno, Tony. Are you sure it's okay between you and Pepper? I don't want to get in the way.”

Tony groaned in a frustrated manner. “C'mon, Rogers, this is about me and you. For once can you just be like me and make it about yourself?”

“I have a hard time making anything about myself, you know that,” Steve retorted, and he could feel as the tension slowly drained out of the both of them. He let Tony guide him back to their previous entwined position, allowing himself to enjoy Tony’s fingers carding through his hair.

“You are seriously one of the most frustratingly unselfish men I’ve ever met,” Tony told him. “And I’m the most selfish. No wonder we didn’t last.”

“That’s not true,” Steve murmured, eyes fluttering closed under Tony’s ministrations, “you’ve made the most sacrifice plays out of any of us.” _Including this trip,_ Steve thought, but he didn’t say it. The mood was stable, now; he didn’t want to bring it back down.

“God, you’re right, I have, haven’t I? When did I become such a saint?” Tony snuggled impossibly closer to Steve, and fire flared where their bodies touched. Steve hesitantly ran his hands down Tony's back again, kneading into his shoulder muscles, and Tony let out a small moan. Suddenly the fire rushed south, and Steve had to stop himself from fidgeting. If this was the closure Tony needed, Steve would give it to him.

“Tony, can I,” Steve croaked, and then cleared his throat, “can I kiss you?” He recalled their first kiss, this same hesitance, the same question, _"Can I kiss you, Tony?"_ and Tony's answer -

“Thought you'd never ask,” Tony echoed his past self, and their lips met again, softer this time, almost like their first but with more familiarity. Steve placed short, tender kisses on Tony's mouth, allowing himself his revels, his heart nearly bursting aflame. They exchanged soft pecks for a while, unwilling to let go of the gentle atmosphere.

After a few minutes, Tony groaned and deepened the kiss, sucking Steve's tongue into his mouth. Steve let out a languid moan as Tony sucked, and he could feel his face flushing even as blood rushed downwards. Tony always had known how to get him riled up.

“Steve,” Tony pulled back suddenly with another groan, “I swear if you don't put your dick in me in the next five minutes, I'm gonna explode.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, and he knew he looked absolutely ravaged, and he didn't care. “Oh, is that so?”

“_Yes._” Tony drew the word out, and his filthy moan was definitely intentional this time. He pushed at Steve's shoulder to move him on his back, straddling Steve's lap. Steve arched up into Tony, allowing him to feel just what Tony did to him.

“Fuck,” Tony whispered, and then said louder, “C'mon, Rogers, we're on the clock here.”

Another spike of heat drove into Steve's core. “I forgot how good my name sounds coming from your mouth,” he murmured, grasping Tony's hips and pausing minutely to marvel at how small Tony's waist was. Steve leaned up to kiss Tony again, then trailed his lips down Tony's jaw and along his neck. Tony pushed up Steve's shirt and tweaked his nipples lightly, which drew another small vocalization from Steve.

“_Steve,_” Tony sighed languidly, and he pulled Steve's shirt over his head in one motion, interrupting the necking. “Steve, I wasn't kidding about the time, I really need you to whip out that Star-Spangled Ding Dong of yours.”

Steve blinked loudly, and then fell back against the bed in defeat. “Star-Spangled - _what?_ You really know how to ruin a moment,” he said, with barely contained laughter. “I'm trying to defuse your bomb and you keep taking my tools!”

“Au contraire, Cap,” Tony grinned mischievously, “maybe I want to explode.” He dragged his hips across Steve's achingly slowly, and Steve itched to flip them both over and pound Tony into the shitty motel mattress. His impulse control had always been tenuous at best, so the only thing stopping him was Tony's face - he was loving this, the power he had over Steve. Far be it from Steve to burst that bubble.

It seemed like Tony finally decided to move things along, as he pulled his own shirt over his head. Steve unconsciously reached out and touched the nano-housing, tracing along the faint scarring underneath it, and Tony shivered. 

“Sorry.” Steve pulled his hand back, recalling the last time he had touched the housing, how Tony had slapped it into his hand - _"You put it on, you hide"_ \- and then promptly collapsed. So dramatic.

“It's fine,” Tony responded, “more than fine, really, is it part of your serum effects for everything you do to be so alluring?”

“You probably know better than me.” Steve pulled Tony into another bruising kiss and slipped his hands under Tony's waistband to grab his ass. God, it was nicer than he remembered. 

Tony seemed interested in Steve's pants as well, though he was having a hard time with the buttons. Steve withdrew one of his hands from kneading Tony's ass (which earned him an annoyed sigh) and undid the buttons smoothly. Tony gave him a shit-eating grin as he finally stuck his hand down Steve's pants to claim his prize.

“Oh, God,” Steve moaned as Tony's rough fingers grasped his cock. It had truly been too long - he'd had nothing but his hands, and a few toys, for years. It was hard to meet someone for a quick fuck when you were Captain Freaking America.

Tony hummed appreciatively as Steve lifted his hips to tug his pants off, an action which shifted Tony off the bed and entirely onto Steve. The sudden weight on his chest stole the breath from Steve's lungs, though it may have also been due to the beautiful flush on Tony's gorgeous face. Now completely naked, Steve wound his arms around Tony's waist and kissed him deeply. He wanted to live inside this moment forever, ignore the world and their mission, disregard the impending doom - because no matter what, Steve was going to face his doom, be it on the battlefield or his relationship with Tony. 

He was destined to lose - but damn if Steve Rogers ever let that stop him.

Tony broke away with a small gasp, and his pupils were blown wide, so his eyes almost looked black in the dim light. “I need you,” he murmured, “inside me.” 

Steve felt his cock twitch as he grew impossibly harder, and he quickly helped liberate Tony of his pants. Tony was fully erect too, and Steve wasn't ashamed in the least when his mouth watered at the sight. He longed to take Tony into his mouth and throat, suck him until he begged and then suck some more - but the clock was ticking, and Tony was already pulling the lube from a hidden pocket in his jacket.

“Really?” Steve deadpanned, and Tony shrugged.

“Look, I had no idea how long we'd be in the past. I refuse to take it dry, not even for you, sweetheart.”

The pet name sent another twitch through Steve's dick, which caught Tony's attention. He clambered back onto the bed with his signature smirk and danced his fingers on Steve's inner thigh, so tantalizingly close. He withdrew his hand to pop open the lube and dribbled a generous amount on Steve's proffered fingertips. The motion was so familiar to Steve, almost like falling onto his own pillow after a long time sleeping away from home. Like he was finally going back to where he belonged.

Slowly, Steve eased a finger into Tony, who pushed back on it with an impatient grunt.

“Tick tock, Steve,” Tony said quickly, “no need to give me the baby hands, I've done this before.”

“It's been a while. I don't want to hurt you,” Steve replied.

“If by a while you mean I was doing this just last week, sure,” Tony snipped, and Steve blinked owlishly at him. “C'mon, Rogers, you think I don't ride Pepper's strap constantly? I thought you knew me.” He pushed back again. "I demand more."

Steve processed that juicy tidbit slowly - he was sure his face was flushed beyond belief - but his fingers still moved almost by themselves. Soon, Tony was taking three, and he moaned wantonly as Steve pushed deeper and brushed his prostate.

"Fff- fuck," Tony huffed, "I'm ready, come on." 

Steve, feeling somewhat coy, raised an eyebrow and prodded Tony's prostate again. "What did you say?"

"Steve," Tony almost whined at Steve's playful ministrations, "fuck me. Please fuck me, for the love of God."

"Alright, I don't have any other plans," Steve tried to respond smoothly, though his slight trembling probably ruined that illusion. He withdrew his hand and slicked up his dick with a generous amount of lube. Tony allowed himself to be guided into position, and Steve groaned softly as he felt Tony's hole nudge the tip of his cock.

Despite Tony's previous insistence that he was more than ready, Steve still went slow, holding Tony's waist with one hand as he guided himself inside with the other. The sensation was instantly overwhelming; Steve bit his lip to keep from crying out as Tony enveloped him in a warm, tight heat that he hadn't experienced in an eternity. He and Tony let out simultaneous moans as Steve bottomed out.

Tony was the one to set the pace, of course. He fucked himself on Steve's cock in an even rhythm, and Steve timed his responding thrusts to hit the best possible angle. He wanted - needed to make Tony feel good, feel all of Steve's love and desire burn straight to Tony's core. 

As usual, Tony's mouth was running nonstop, and every movement was accompanied with an "ah," "yes," various swear words, and the best one, "Steve." Steve had always been rather quiet, but he allowed himself to make the small noises that he knew Tony liked. The rickety bed rocked, and they were too caught up in each other to care.

Tony shifted backward slightly and Steve sat up, bracing himself with both hands on Tony’s back. Tony, clearly showing off, hiked both legs over Steve’s shoulders without unseating himself, and with the next thrust, Steve sunk impossibly deeper. Tony ended up propped on his arms underneath Steve as he threw his head back and gasped, and Steve had never felt so complete.

“Chr- Christ,” Tony choked out, “_harder._”

Steve snapped his hips obligingly, picking up the pace, and Tony cried out, a guttural sound that rocked Steve to his very core. He wouldn’t last much longer at this rate, and he could tell by the sounds Tony was making that the feeling was mutual.

“God, Tony,” Steve said, “I’m close-”

“Come for me, Steve,” Tony moaned, stroking his dick, “come inside me, please, just stay here with me-”

With a ragged cry, Steve hit his peak, and he struggled to keep his gaze on Tony, because Tony was coming too, and God fucking damn was he beautiful - waves of pleasure overcame Steve, and he had to lean back and close his eyes, but he could still hear Tony swearing, feel Tony thrusting at a feverish pace, feel Tony’s cum spurt onto his chest. The sensation was overwhelming, and Steve greedily drank it in, like a dehydrated man finally watered. He'd experienced orgasm with Tony many times before, but none had ever been like this, so full of raw power and emotion, neither of them wanting to let go but having no choice.

After Steve finally regained his vision and sense of self, he gently lifted Tony out of his lap. The shorter man shuddered as Steve's cock slid out of him, and Steve pulled him into a soft kiss to apologize. They laid there for several minutes, basking in each others' embrace, exchanging soft kisses and wordless murmurs. Steve was surprised Tony hadn't gotten up to clean himself off yet; though the engineer didn't mind getting dirty, he was unusually put off by bodily fluids.

"God damn," Tony said suddenly, face pillowed on Steve's chest, "I need a shower."

"Right on cue," Steve mumbled with a soft smirk, and then he raised his voice to ask, "Could I join you?"

Tony pushed himself up to look Steve straight in the eye. "Fuck yes you can. I doubt this trash heap has enough hot water for even one shower, so it's better if we share anyway." Tony made a face and added, "If the water gets cold, I'll just use you as a space heater."

"I'm used to cold showers," Steve shrugged, and Tony's grimace only grew, much to Steve's amusement.

It took them a bit longer to get out of bed and into the shower, and, as Tony predicted, the water cooled halfway into their session. Neither of them cared, too enraptured in each other, exchanging soft kisses and tender touches as they stood under the weak stream. Steve was wrong before; this was the moment he wanted to live in. For a brief second he wished he had the Time Stone, just to capture this bliss and relive it again and again - then he thought of Strange, the man who saved Tony's life, and Steve knew that he, too, would have sacrificed everything to do the same.

"Stop thinking," Tony whispered against Steve's lips, and Steve obliged.

They finally left the water when Steve kissed Tony's palm and found it far more wrinkled than usual. After toweling off, neither bothered with clothes; Tony took one look at their discarded outfits and didn't look again, which Steve was perfectly fine with. All the better to admire the work of art that was Tony Stark. 

It was wordlessly decided that they were ignoring Tony's bed (arch nemesis) in favor of Steve's. "We've baptized this in our cum, Rogers," Tony explained as they settled back into cuddling position, and Steve snorted despite himself. That earned him a shit-eating grin from Tony, who continued, "When we go back, I won't burn this bed. No, this bed belongs in a museum." 

_Go back._ The words struck Steve like an arrow through the heart, and it must have shown on his face, because Tony hummed and reached up to stroke Steve's brow.

"You know, we don't actually have to go back right away," Tony suggested slowly. "Time is in our hands and so on and so forth. We can stick around here for a while once we get the particles." He pressed a soft kiss to Steve's furrowed brow. "If you want."

"I-" Steve found it hard to speak past the sudden lump in his throat. Tony would do that? Stay with - for him? They could hang around here, in the 1970s, for months, years even, before traveling back to 2023. Blinking back tears, Steve shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? It's not like they'll miss us in the future. We have our GPSes, we can go back to the right time whenever we want." Tony looked at Steve almost imploringly, and Steve's heart ached, burned with want and desire and love, begged to say Yes, Tony, let's stay.

But he couldn't always follow his heart.

"Tony, I can't," Steve choked back a sob, "I can't. I can't keep you here, from your family, your life-" He blinked in shock as a hand clapped over his mouth.

"Stop," Tony exclaimed, "thinking about what I need and for once, just once think about yourself!" Steve was struck by Tony's voice, no longer the civilian but the superhero, leader of the Avengers. "You're always so concerned with what others want that you ignore your own needs. You know Natasha, of all people, told me that you haven't had so much as a one-night stand in six years?" 

Of course Natasha had talked to Tony. Steve couldn't bring himself to harbor any ill will towards her, though; she had always looked out for him, for the whole team, and she was just doing what she felt was best. He'd just have to give her a thorough ribbing when he saw her again.

Tony was still going. "You need to stop - just stop thinking about everyone else and think about what you want, Steve! So. What. Do. You. Want?" He punctuated the words with repeated jabs to Steve's chest. At the last one, Steve covered Tony's hand with his own, to cut him off gently.

"Tony. I know that I'm," Steve paused to collect himself, "I'm not the best at taking care of myself. I know that, and I appreciate your concern." He had no idea how to articulate his thoughts; he'd been considering this type of conversation for a long time, though he never thought he would have it with Tony, no matter how much he'd hoped. Finally, Steve settled on the answer.

"I want a life. A life away from all of this. The battles, the constant fighting - I signed up for one war, not all of them, and it feels like I'll never get out. I want to lay down the shield, permanently, and give it to someone who deserves it. The world needs Captain America, but you were right, that doesn't have to be me.

"That's what I want, but I'm wanting to run away, instead of towards something, and that's where I have a problem." Steve sighed in resignation. "I want a life, but I have no idea what I would do with it. It feels like my whole existence is fighting, and, well, maybe it is. I've always been fighting, and I have no idea how to stop. And you stopped." Tony looked like he was about to interject, and Steve put his left hand over Tony's mouth, running his thumb along the plush lower lip. "You said it yourself, you were able to stop, and then I showed up and you started again. I want a life, but it can't be with you."

Speech finished, Steve moved his hand away from Tony's mouth and caressed his cheek instead. Tony seemed to be at a loss for words, which was an incredibly rare occurrence. Steve waited patiently, brushing his fingers up and down Tony's face, trying to memorize the lines, the little wrinkles and scars that hadn't been there before. 

"Steve…" Tony slipped his fingers over the hand on his cheek and laced them lightly through Steve's. He closed his eyes and leaned into the soldier's touch, and he looked so tired. Steve's heart ached. "What if I don't care about all that? Screw my promise. If it means I can't be with you, maybe I don't want to stop fighting." Tony opened his eyes again, and his gaze was hard, challenging. "I love you. And I want to be with you, and I know you want to be with me too. So be with me."

Steve chuckled wearily. "We're both too stubborn, you know that?" He turned his hand and caught Tony's, and brought Tony's knuckles to his lips. Steve pecked a few kisses onto each knuckle and then said, "You have a family, Tony. Don't tell me you wouldn't miss them." _Don't tell me you don't need them._ He didn't say it; he didn't want to rile Tony any more than he already had.

Tony opened his mouth, and closed it again. He did this a few times, and Steve quietly marveled at how much Tony had changed; before, he would have just said exactly what he was thinking, with no care to how he said it. Clearly, he'd learned something from Pepper about proper communication. "I already do," Tony eventually said, voice small. "I miss them so much my chest hurts. Like I'm being choked, or when the suit's chest cavity is crushed." He tilted his head in an imploring manner and continued, "But it felt like that without you, too. Even though you were the one who crushed my chest cavity. God, that feeling lingered for so long, and at first, I thought you had done permanent damage. I had myself CAT scanned and everything. Turns out it was just a broken heart."

"Tony…" Now Steve was at a loss for words. He felt the urge to apologize again, but bit his tongue. There had been enough apologies tonight; it was time to move forward. "We can't stay here."

Tony let out a long groan and rolled onto his back, and Steve cuddled into his side and stroked his chest absentmindedly. "I hate when you're right," Tony griped, scratching Steve's scalp in a way that felt far too good.

"I usually am," Steve replied.

"Which is why I usually hate you," Tony shot back. They both chuckled weakly for a few seconds, and Steve hadn't felt this warm and protected since a cold night in 1929, when Bucky had wrapped Steve's sickly 11-year-old self in every blanket he could find and cuddled up next to him, and whispered that _"Everything will be better in the morning, Stevie."_ He wondered idly if he should have a serious talk with Bucky when he saw him again - when, not if, because it was going to work.

"When we get back," Tony said, turning back onto his side, "and when this is all over, I - I don't want this to be the last hurrah. For us, I mean." Steve frowned at him in confusion, and Tony explained, "If - if we can work it out, if you're okay with it, and I think I can convince Pepper, 'cause she knows how I feel about you, maybe we can still… be together. I'm polyamorous. Is what I'm saying." Tony took a breath, and then squinted. "You know what that is, right? Did they have that back in the Dark Ages?"

"Yes, polyamory isn't a 21st century invention," Steve huffed. "Though the term is new. I was a queer back then too, and queers were always ahead of the curve. I was never personally in a relationship like that, though I wasn't ever really in a relationship. I'm not a good point of reference."

"Okay, so would you be okay in a relationship like that?" Tony stared at him with big eyes, and Steve almost had to look away, it was so intense. "If you aren't, it's okay, I know I said this was the end, and it can be. But if we can work it out-" Tony swallowed audibly. "I would want that."

Steve exhaled slowly, mulling it over. He was still hesitant about their relationship; he still thought what he'd said was true. _"I want a life, but it can't be…"_ Suddenly, a spark of realization dawned. Perhaps it was true that Steve brought the fight out in Tony, and that had been a bad thing in the past, but it didn't have to continue to be a bad thing. _Am I seeing this clearly?_ he wondered.

"I'll think about it," Steve conceded. He wanted to give Tony more, give him what he deserved, so he added, "I'm okay with a polyamorous relationship. I just need some time." No amount of time would truly make him ready for this relationship, he knew, but he needed something. "And we need to finish our mission." Which, _when_ they succeeded, would cause some complications in the already complicated love life of Steve Rogers. 

"Right." Tony's wandering gaze went a little hard again, and Steve wondered if he was upset with the answer, until Tony looked him in the eyes with a fierce determination and said, "I'm warning you, you'd better make it through this shit, Rogers, because if you die I'm going to kill you." 

"Consider me warned," Steve grinned, and he couldn't resist placing a small kiss on Tony's lips. They kissed for a few minutes, languidly exploring territory many times charted, and Steve's heart burned.

There was no more conversation that night, and Steve thought Tony would agree that, in that moment, there was nothing else to say. They fell asleep in each other's arms, and right there, in that shitty motel room on that shitty motel bed, it was just the two of them - no mission, no world to save, no loss or sorrow or apologies. All of those things existed elsewhere, in another time, and Steve slept more peacefully than he had in years.

The future could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> my gf, talking about this fic: i think the sex should have significance  
me: oh i was just gonna have tony power bottom  
me, considering: tony could still power bottom, it will make a statement  
my gf, listening with rapt attention:  
me: the statement is he's hungry for dick  
my gf:  
my gf: *loses it*
> 
> tony: pepper pegs me  
steve: *dial-up noise* [steve.exe has stopped responding]
> 
> follow me on tumblr for way too many fandoms and occasional screaming about my fics and other art  
chronicghostsmoocher.tumblr.com


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